You Deserve To Be Saved
by Attenia
Summary: Dean is a prisoner of war and Castiel is the soldier sent to rescue him. The only problem is, Dean doesn't believe he deserves to be saved. Can Cas convince him otherwise before it's too late?


Castiel crept forward, ignoring the sound of gunfire behind him. The rest of his unit was doing what they were supposed to – causing a diversion. If all went well, he'd meet back up with them once he'd apprehended the target. If not… he tried not to think about that.

There were only two guards at the door, and Cas made quick work of them, snapping their necks in rapid succession. He'd memorized the layout of the building beforehand and had no trouble making his way to where the prisoners were kept.

Two more guards out of the way, and the path was clear. Cas pulled a bunch of keys from one of their belts and unlocked what he hoped was the correct door, flipping the light. The first thing that hit him was the smell – the stench of human excrement mingled with blood and sweat.

Then, he saw the person huddled on the floor in the corner. "Dean? Dean Winchester?"

Dean didn't look up, but flinched at the sound of his name. "Fuck off. I won't give you anything else. Torture me all you want; I'll die first."

"My name is Castiel; I am with the US Marines. I am here to rescue you."

"No thanks," Dean muttered.

Cas was sure that Dean's captors had played tricks on him before, to test his compliance. He needed to get the man to believe him quickly and get out of here before the time bought by the diversion ran out.

He knelt down by Dean's side and used the keys to undo the handcuffs. "I am here to help you, Dean. Look at me."

Slowly, Dean looked up, his eyes taking in Cas's uniform. "Marines, huh? So they sent the big guns to bust me out."

"Yes. Now come, we have to hurry."

"As I said, no thanks."

Cas stared at him. He needed Dean to come willingly, it would be too conspicuous to haul him out if he made a fuss. "Why not?"

"You're too late. I already cracked." Castiel knew that, of course. Dean had held out for three months under torture before finally giving the plans to a bomb that killed thousands of US citizens.

"There is plenty more you could give them if you remain here, things that could be just as harmful as what you've already revealed. I need to get you out."

Dean shook his head stubbornly, his hands clenched and his lip trembling.

"What's the matter?" Cas tried to read Dean's expression – the guilt tinged with loathing, mixed in with something else. He stared into Dean's eyes as realization came to him. "You don't think you deserve to be saved."

Dean didn't speak, but Castiel needed no confirmation of what he'd read on the man's face.

"Listen to me, Dean. You held out for three months. Three months! That's more than most of the people I've served with would have managed under the kind of torture they put you through. You did the best you could, and you have to stop blaming yourself for what happened."

"You should go."

Castiel knew that. The gunfire had stopped, which meant they had mere minutes to get out of here. He folded his arms. "No. Not without you."

"You're crazy. Stay here, and you'll have it as bad as me."

"Not something I look forward to, but I am not leaving you here." Cas knew his orders. Dean couldn't be allowed to give out any more secrets, torture or not. If he couldn't bring the man back safely, he was to kill him. The orders had seemed so simple when Michael was giving them, but looking at Dean, Cas somehow couldn't bring himself to pull the trigger.

"My life is in your hands, Dean. What will it be?"

Dean's glare could have cut steel. "Help me up, you maniac."

Sighing in relief, Cas pulled Dean's arm around his shoulders. Dean groaned in pain and staggered, but managed to keep up, for the most part. The way was still clear, and Cas quickly maneuvered him through the dark streets to the temporary safe house he'd set up.

He deposited Dean on the single bed before grabbing his radio. "Michael, come in."

"Cas, I'm here. Did you get him?"

"I've got him. We're at the safe house."

"Listen, Cas, we've run into some trouble here. You're going to have to hang tight for a bit before we can safely extract you."

"How long?"

"A week or two at least. There should be enough supplies."

"Understood, we will lay low until then."

Castiel sighed as he turned back to Dean. He wasn't a doctor, but he had basic medical training, and he knew that Dean's wounds needed to be tended to.

Dean flinched under his touch, and Cas drew back, not wanting to scare him. "I need to treat your wounds. I will not hurt you."

"No thanks," Dean said again. "I want to know what the plan is."

"We'll need to wait here for a week or two until Michael and the others can organize our retreat."

"Not that – I mean, how are we going to rescue the others?"

"The others?"

"I wasn't the only prisoner there – surely, you knew that."

"Yes, I know. Our orders are to retrieve only you. We don't have the ability to conduct a large-scale rescue at this point."

"That's crap," Dean spat. "All the innocent people in there, and you rescue me? No way. You said we've got a week. This house is big enough to hold all of us until rescue comes. We'll go back and grab the others while we're waiting for our exit strategy to arrive.'

"Those are not my orders –"

"Screw your orders, Cas! We are going in and we are rescuing them, end of discussion."

Cas found himself once more staring at Dean. He was so fierce when fighting for the welfare of others – the exact opposite to when it was his own safety in the balance. He knew his orders, but Cas also knew what was happening to those people they'd left behind. As Dean said, they did have a week, at minimum. There would be hell to pay from Michael, though, if he disobeyed…

"I'll cut you a deal. You agree to rescue the other prisoners, and I'll let you treat my wounds."

With anyone else, Castiel wouldn't have believed them, but judging by his interactions with Dean so far, Dean would absolutely refuse to let himself get treated, even if it would kill him. He seemed to have no regard for his own life.

"Fine," Cas bit out. "But you'd better not whine about it."

Dean laughed hollowly. "I've spent three months under the knife of people who know more about pain than most could learn in a hundred lifetimes. Trust me, I can take it."

They were quiet as Cas cleaned, stitched, splinted and bandaged various cuts, burns, breaks and sprains. When he was done, he helped Dean lie down on the bed. "You should get some rest. I will keep watch."

Dean nodded, his eyes already closing. He was clearly exhausted. Cas went to check past the boarded-up windows as his charge fell into a fitful sleep.

Castiel was organizing their supplies when a shout had him running to Dean's room. The man was writhing on the bed, the blanket clenched in his fists, clearly in the grips of a nightmare.

"Dean! Dean, wake up, you are dreaming!" Cas grabbed Dean's upper arms and shook him.

Dean's eyes snapped open and he flinched away from Cas' touch. Cas immediately let him go, and Dean pushed himself to the far end of the bed. "Don't touch me!"

"It's ok, Dean. I am Castiel, remember? I rescued you. I will not hurt you."

Slowly, the man's eyes cleared as the memories came back. "Cas. Sorry. I thought –"

"There is no need to apologize."

Dean was shaking, and Cas slowly reached forward, clasping the man's uninjured shoulder tightly. "It is alright, Dean. You are safe now."

Dean's lip was trembling again, his bravado from earlier stripped away in the face of the nightmare. Cas acted on instinct, before he could think any better of it. He climbed into bed with Dean, pulling the blanket over the two of them.

"What are you doing?"

"I have had my share of nightmares before. Trust me, having someone close while you sleep will help."

Dean didn't say anything, lying stiffly as their bodies pressed together in the small space. Cas slowly put his arms around the man. He didn't know why he was doing this, only that he couldn't bear to see Dean suffer any more than he already had.

"Cas." Dean's voice was rough and quiet in the darkness.

"Dean?"

"I… you shouldn't be helping me."

"Of course I should."

"No, you don't understand! I cracked, don't you get that? I gave them plans that they would never have gotten otherwise. I heard the guards talking – thousands died, thousands, Cas! All because of me. I don't deserve to be alive. You should have left me to be tortured."

Cas reached up, brushing tears of Dean's cheeks. "It's not your fault, Dean. No one can be expected to last under torture indefinitely."

"I should have. If I had –"

"Enough," Cas said firmly. "Stop blaming yourself."

"I can't," Dean whispered. "How can I live with their blood on my hands? Why should I? I should turn myself back in to the interrogators."

It hurt Castiel's heart to see someone in such misery, more so because he didn't know how he could help. "Shh, it's alright," he murmured, pulling Dean close to his chest, rocking him gently. "It's going to be ok."

Dean just shook his head, shuddering as he tried to control the sobs that were being torn out of his throat. Cas felt helpless and useless as he stroked Dean's hair, desperately trying to comfort him. Dean's hand reached for Castiel's, and he held on tightly, seeming to draw strength from the contact.

It took a while, but eventually, Dean's tears slowed and he relaxed. As his charge fell asleep, Cas allowed himself to drift off, still holding Dean in his arms.

When he woke, it was to a rather embarrassing problem – a problem that was currently pressing into Dean's backside. Cas felt his face going red and prayed that Dean was still asleep. A few moments of watching the steady rise and fall of the man's chest had Cas' own chest loosening in relief.

He extracted himself as quietly as he could and headed to the small bathroom. Cas quickly shed his clothes and got into the shower, his hand reaching for his morning boner. Instead of the usual images he played through in his head, his mind was full of Dean – of his green eyes, his chiseled features, his hair that just begged to be petted.

It didn't take long. Cas slapped a hand over his mouth as he came, leaning against the wall to support his weight. He finished showering quickly and was just getting dressed when he heard a panicked shout from the other room.

"Cas? Castiel!"

"Dean!" Cas ran in with a towel around his waist, snatching up his gun, looking for the threat.

Dean was white and at the sight of him, fell back onto the bed, his head in his hands. "Sorry," he muttered.

After checking to make sure there was no one else around, Cas put his gun down and went to sit on the edge of the bed. "What happened?"

"I woke up, and I thought – I've had dreams before about getting rescued, then I woke and…"

"I understand. Don't worry, it's real this time."

Dean took a few shuddering breaths before looking up. His eyes caught on Castiel's naked chest, and he quickly averted them, but not quickly enough to hide a look of interest. Cas did his best not to smirk. At least he wasn't the only one having inappropriate thoughts here.

Dean didn't mention anything about last night, and Cas took cues from him. It was easy enough, considering how distracting Dean's body was; it didn't leave Cas much time to wonder about Dean's mental state when he was fighting as hard as he could to stop himself from kissing the man.

Unfortunately, they both had bigger things to worry about.

The next week was spent planning how to rescue over ten prisoners from a highly guarded facility. Had he been on his own, Cas would have said it was impossible, but there was a reason Dean had been taken. His knowledge of explosives was unparalleled.

It didn't take him long to cobble together a number of bombs from what few supplies they had, all with timers and small enough blast radii that they would cause chaos, but not damage the building badly enough to bring it down.

Cas hadn't told Michael about their plan, and he wasn't going to until they had the prisoners safely back here.

"Dean, are you sure about this?" Cas was hoping more than he cared to admit that Dean might have changed his mind. This was insanely risky, and he couldn't bear the thought of something happening to Dean. It surprised Castiel to realize just how quickly the man had gotten into his heart in the short time they'd known each other.

"I'm sure. You ready?"

"Ready," Cas said quietly.

The first part of the plan went off without a hitch. They planted the bombs and waited by the back entrance for them to go off. As expected, the moment the explosions started, guards began running everywhere.

Cas led the way to the cells and quickly took out the guards, Dean following on his heels. Castiel grabbed two sets of keys from their belts. "Here, hurry."

Dean caught the keys Cas tossed and the two of them started opening cells, helping bedraggled prisoners out. Many of them were injured, but none as badly as Dean had been a week ago.

Cas was just thinking that perhaps this would go as planned when a loud, blaring alarm went off.

Almost at once, shouts started heading their way. Cas fought the urge to panic. Their plan relied on getting a head start. These people were too injured to outrun their captors. If they couldn't delay the guards, they'd be followed straight back to the safe house and re-captured.

"Go, go!" Dean pushed the last few stumbling figures through the back door and turned to face the front. The voices from that direction were getting louder every moment. "Cas, come on!"

Cas couldn't think of anything other than to run and try to lose their pursuers on the streets before they made it to the safe house. He and Dean bolted for the door.

One moment, Dean was next to him, and the next, he wasn't.

Cas skidded to a stop, and his heart nearly stilled in his chest at what he saw.

Dean had planted himself firmly between the back door and the oncoming guards. His fists were clenched and his legs spread in a fighting stance.

Cas realized then that Dean had never meant to come back with him. Dean didn't think he deserved to be saved. Castiel's gun suddenly felt like it weighed a hundred pounds in his hands. He knew what Michael would say. Kill Dean and get out of here. He couldn't leave Dean behind, and the man obviously wasn't going to come willingly.

The guards were nearly here, and Cas was out of time. He didn't even need to think about it.

He shoved his gun into his belt and lunged for Dean, grabbing his upper arm in a bruising grip. There was no time to talk; Cas simply hauled him out of there.

Dean stumbled and tried to protest, but Cas wasn't listening. His choice likely just meant he would die with Dean, but if they were to have even the faintest glimmer of a chance, they needed to be fast.

Gunfire suddenly started, but not from the direction Cas had been expecting.

He continued dragging Dean away, his eyes searching the shadows. A figure moved forward slightly to get a better angle, laying down cover fire. Had he the breath, Cas would sighed in relief. Michael. They were saved.

"Go, go!" Michael waved Cas and Dean on. Cas couldn't see Anna or Gabriel, but he could judge their positions by the direction they were firing from.

The next few minutes passed in a blur. All Cas was aware of was his grip on Dean's arm. He wouldn't let go. He wasn't leaving Dean in this hellhole, no matter what.

There were choppers everywhere – at least four. The last of the prisoners were being pulled into the third one, with only the fourth still waiting on the ground. Cas all but dove inside, still never letting go of Dean. Three thumps told him that Michael, Anna and Gabriel were in as well. At once, the pilot took off.

Shots pinged off the sides of the chopper, and Cas reached up to close the doors on both sides.

"Everyone ok?" Michael shouted. Gabriel, Anna and Castiel nodded. It did his heart good to see his unit again. He knew Michael would give him an earful for going off book, but it was worth it.

Michael slapped Cas on the shoulder. "You just about gave me a heart attack when we turned up at the safe house and you weren't there."

"Sorry, brother." Cas couldn't help grinning, despite the situation.

"Dean?" Cas finally turned to Dean, who was wedged awkwardly between him and Gabriel. "Dean, are you alright?"

Dean groaned. "Cas? What… what happened?"

"Not too sure myself," Castiel shouted over the noise of the chopper. "All that matters is we're safe."

Dean shook his head slowly. "I don't – you shouldn't have – I deserve to –"

After such a near brush with death, Cas wasn't in the mood to hear Dean talk about how he deserved pain and suffering. He did the best thing he could to stop the man's words – Cas kissed him.

He barely heard the whoops of the rest of his unit. He was only aware of Dean's lips against his, of the slight moan Dean made that he felt more than heard, of the way Dean's arms tightened around him.

The kiss was short and sweet and filled with promise. Cas pulled away, taking Dean's face in his hands. "I never want to hear about how you deserve suffering again. That's not true. You deserve to be saved, and I will save you, whether you like it or not. Got it?"

"Got it," Dean replied somewhat breathlessly. They kissed again, until something thumped Cas on the head.

"Get a room, you two," Gabriel griped.

"And don't fall in love with the target," Anna added, smirking.

Cas rolled his eyes. He had a feeling it was too late for that. Ignoring the complaints of his unit, Cas tilted Dean's head back and kissed him again.


End file.
